


Wishful Thinking

by doxydejour



Category: Alien: Covenant
Genre: F/M, Gen, another tumblr prompt because I am predictable, there is sadness and hugging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 09:09:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11227818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doxydejour/pseuds/doxydejour
Summary: Another prompt from rottenbrainstuff: Daniels hadn't considered that she wasn't the only one recovering from the neutrino wave. Mild Walter/Daniels.





	Wishful Thinking

“It could have been avoided,” said Walter, and Daniels turned to look at him. He had been working behind her on a separate console, checking over the data she passed to him after checking it herself. A pointless exercise for the ship, but essential for them both. 

She had been running through her already well scrutinised teraforming inventory on her tablet, a cooling cup of coffee in one hand as the other rubbed at her eyes and tried to banish the tiredness lurking there. It had only been two days - two days since the inferno of awakening; two days since Oram decided to change course on a whim to prove his nerve, not realising that his act of capitulation only made him weaker; two days since her heart had been ripped from her and left to freeze in the cold depths of space.

Two days since she had come to rely on Walter as being her only source of comfort.

Well - Walter and her work, but fortunately the two often went hand in hand. They worked well together, Walter clever enough to find a way of enquiring about her health with enough tact that she wasn’t rattled, and Daniels able to provide a never-ending stream of conversational starters when the silence grew too oppressive and the knot in her chest sent blood rushing past her ears so loudly that it hurt to concentrate. The last forty-eight hours hadn’t exactly been pleasant, but they could have been a damn sight worse.

And now that she looked at him - really looked, not glanced - she realised there was a slight slump in his shoulders that hadn’t been there when she had brushed past him at the day’s foodless breakfast. A slight hesitancy to the way he moved, as though there were something on his mind that was weighing him down, making him consider even the smallest of actions as though they were life-changing. When he spoke, his voice was still warm and friendly but also carried a ponderous undertone, as though the heaviness of his thoughts made it harder to speak.

“What could have been avoided?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Walter had been wonderful in the wake of the tragedy, helping with burials and packing away the possessions of those colonists lost in the neutrino storm whilst still managing to smile and make stupid little jokes purely to make her laugh. Drowning in the deep lake of her own sense of loss, she had never stopped to wonder if he could be floundering too. After all, he had been programmed to be the _Covenant_ ’s caretaker, both of ship and crew, and the storm had damaged both. One was repairable. The other was not. She wondered how well synthetics understood that concept.

He said: “I have spent the last three hours running simulations devised from the data Mother recorded when the storm hit the _Covenant_. If I had been on the bridge, instead of the Hydroponics laboratory, there is a nine percent chance we could have avoided all but one fatality.”

She turned around fully now, hand on hip, eyebrows raised. “Walter, you can’t…you can’t _blame yourself_ for what happened. It was a freak accident. A million to one odds that even the most powerful computers back home couldn’t have predicted.”

Sensing her change in position he pivoted, faced her. His eyes were soft, his tone adamant. “But had I been on the bridge…”

She sighed, shook her head. “You weren’t on the bridge.”

“I know. But had I been -”

“I should have comforted him.”

Her answer surprised him; she watched as he tried to rearrange his features to address the wobble in her voice, ending up looking thoroughly bewildered. She smiled in spite of herself, gulped, took a deep breath, continued: “My husband burned to death in front of me and all I could do was kick and scream. I should have remained calm. I should have comforted him, told him I loved him, been strong.”

He processed this. Rejected it. “I can see what you’re trying to do and I thank you for it, but there is no comparison. You were newly awakened from cryosleep and in a state of shock. Your actions are entirely logical.”

“I know that.” She nodded. “And I also know that I am not going to sleep for the next five nights because as soon as the lights go out and I’m lying in the dark alone, there’s going to be a little voice at the back of my head chastising me all night for allowing my husband’s final memories to be of pain and fear, with me screeching hysterically in the background rather than telling him that I loved him.”

“There was nothing you could have done. And he wouldn’t have been able to hear you.”

Daniels took a step forward. “I _know_ ,” she repeated. “But this is what grieving does to you, Walter. It makes you think irrationally. It leaves you pouring over the details, desperately searching for a way to make right something that cannot ever be corrected. My agonising over Jacob is not going to bring him back, but…but it’s going to help me come to terms with what happened. My mind is trying to put its house in order, and that means searching through every dustry drawer until they’re all empty and there’s nothing left to do but seal up the cabinet and leave the room.” She put a hand on his arm, managed to be surprised all over again at how warm it was under her fingers. She squeezed it gently. “I don’t know much about synthetics, but it sounds to me like you're trying to do the same thing.”

The doubt in his expression was replaced by guilt, and she felt a pang in her chest as his brows drew together and his eyes grew moist.“I was supposed to protect them,” he said lamely, a catch in his words, finally coming to the point she had been fishing for. “It is my duty to protect you all, and I failed in it.”

She couldn’t bear to see him like this. Warm, happy, welcoming, kind, gentle creatures like Walter shouldn’t ever be so sad: it seemed as though the universe was broken somehow. Pushing herself up on the tips of her toes she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her cheek against his so that she whispered into his ear. “Without your quick-thinking, quicker than any human could react, we would have lost so many more. You didn’t fail. You excelled in circumstances that should have been impossible, and the rest of the crew and colonists are alive because of you. Don’t ever put yourself down. Don’t ever let yourself get to the point where you only see the storm - instead of the life the rain leaves behind.”

His arms had remained at his sides, but as she spoke he wrapped them tightly around her waist, seemed to press into her as though actively seeking the comfort she was trying to provide. He felt so solid, so _real_ that it made her gasp. “Jacob knew you loved him,” he said quietly. “I saw it within him each time he was with you. And he would certainly have taken that love with him wherever he is.”

Daniels had promised herself that she would shed no more tears, certain that there could be none left to shed, but such a declaration held no power here. She cried, and although his face was dry when their embrace eventually came to an end she sensed a kind of cleansing about him, as though that dread weight had been lifted and left hope in its stead. He smiled at her: a genuine Walter smile. Odd, but full of compassion. “I still have some cannabis left, if you would like to…?”

She laughed. It hurt to do so, her jaw aching and her heart raw, but at the same time it felt so _good_. Freeing, somehow. “No thanks,” she said. “I’m good.”

“The offer is always there.”

“I know. And…” She paused. “…The offer of a hug is always there. From me, specifically. Don’t try to hug Tennessee, he’ll never let you go.”

“I’ll make a note of it.” He gave her one final nod, then turned back to his workstation and their small, intimate moment came to an end. Daniels watched him for a moment, then turned back to her own and let out a deep sigh, one she felt she had been holding forever.

 _It’s all going to be okay_ , she thought. _So long as Walter can still smile, things are going to be okay._


End file.
